


Places Unlikey

by Institutelibrary



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Draco Malfoy, Rape/Non-con Elements, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Ron Weasley Bashing, Slow Burn, Submissive Hermione, dramione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:47:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28063410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Institutelibrary/pseuds/Institutelibrary
Summary: Hermione just wants things to go back to normal but past trauma and a mysterious new threat attempt to rip apart all her carefully constructed eighth year plans. Fortunately for her, help has a tendency to come from unexpected places...and people.HIATUS
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 7
Kudos: 23





	1. The Sky Wept

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! This fic will be updating every other week.  
> Notes: It's been forever since I've read Harry Potter so I'm going to apologize in advance if there are some details mentioned that are inconsistent with the canon universe. Some differences, like Draco killing Nagini, are intentional. Also, I am from the USA so some phrases and terms may feel not so British. I'll do my best!  
> CW: overall content warning, this fic will deal with violence, trauma, PTSD, the aftermath of sexual assault. Individual chapters will have more specific content warnings in case you want to skip past certain scenes.  
> Thank you!

It rained for the first three weeks of Hermione's last year at Hogwarts. Big, fat raindrops pattering on the turrets and arched windows of the school that had become a sanctuary for the young witch. It was fitting she supposed, almost as if the skies wept for all the young lives lost to war, all the families split apart by hatred and bigotry.

But more than a show of mourning, the constant downpour felt like a cleansing. It scoured away the blood staining the stones of the courtyard, the dust of crumbled mortar. When the torrential rain finally broke into the overcast skies of late September, there was a brand new feeling in the air and the whole school felt it. 

Students and professors alike were sick of the darkness that enveloped the wizarding community for the past year. It was time for hope, new beginnings. 

From the second she stepped off of platform 9 3/4 and onto The Hogwarts Express, Hermione knew this year would bring change. For one, Harry and Ron, off interning at the ministry, wouldn't be by her side. For another, she was interning with Madame Pomfrey in the hospital wing, in preparation for a career as a healer. She was no longer a young girl, no longer an untried student, no longer innocent.

She was a war hero, had seen and lived through things grown wizards couldn't even imagine and she'd be lying if she said the war wasn't still affecting her. But life moved onward. People forgave and tried their best to forget, classes resumed. In the blink of an eye she was three weeks into a new routine. Breakfast with Ginny and Luna, advanced classes in the morning, healing in the afternoon, dinner, nightmare, wake. repeat. It was working for her. At least that's what she told herself.

"Can you pass the jam, Hermione?" Luna asked sweetly from her place at Hermione's side. 

Hermione jerked suddenly, looking up from the fruit she was pushing around her plate to meet Luna's big, curious eyes. For a moment she had forgotten she was in the great hall on an overcast weekday morning with her two closest female friends. She brushed off her confusion before anyone could notice. "Oh, sure Luna."

Ginny pinched her arm. "Day dreaming about my brother are you?," Ginny teased with a mock tone of disgust. 

Hermione laughed, "I wish. I have a quiz in advanced arithmancy. It kept me up all night if you must know," she said matter of factly. It was a lie, but Hermione had gotten quite good at lying to her friends. Then again, they seemed perfectly happy to assume she was fine. After all, she always was the strong one, the backbone of the golden trio.

"Have you gotten an owl from Ron lately?" Ginny prompted. "Harry sent a letter yesterday in which he admitted that the internship is not as glamorous as they hoped," she giggled. "Mostly just fetching paperwork and coffee for their superiors. Ron is just about sick of it." 

Hermione smiled at the thought. "I bet they're wishing they decided to come back," she quipped, avoiding the question of whether she had spoken to Ron. She had received an letter from her boyfriend, but it sat unopened on her desk in the head girl dormitory. 

If she read it she would have to reply to it, and whatever she wrote would feel like glossing over the truth of her feelings. Feelings that she didn't even understand, despite many restless nights spent turning them over in her head.

She loved Ron, that much she knew. But as the days carried them further from the final battle and Fred's passing and settled into the quiet of Summer she found herself wondering exactly what kind of love she felt for him. If maybe, the stress of being on the run and fearing for her friends’ lives made her confuse a deep fondness with the desire for a real relationship. She would be lying if she said that she wasn't relieved Ron was in London and not with her. She needed time away from him to find some perspective.

The redhead sitting across from her couldn’t know all that though. The last thing Hermione wanted to do was disappoint anyone, especially after the Weasley’s had been through so much heartache. Hermione was there when they lowered Fred into the ground as Mrs. Weasley wailed into her husband’s chest, George staring at the casket as if he couldn’t bear to let it out of his sight. Ron needed her right now and she would give him whatever comfort she could.

A commotion broke out at the Slytherin table, pulling Hermione out of her own head once again. Angry shouts bounced off the walls, coming from two first year slytherins and a gryffindor boy that looked to be the same age.

The gryffindor boy had the slytherin against the table, his hand fisting the front of his green and black robes. The other slytherin student, a girl, was snarling at them both. The whole scene took place just a few place settings down from Hermione and her friends, but over the sound of silverware clattering to the ground she could hear Ginny mutter, “Not again.”

Fights between slytherin students and other houses were commonplace these days. It seemed everyone had a friend or family member murdered by a death eater, some of whom had children attending this very school. The older students just wanted to move on, make peace with the classmates they had known for years, but some of the younger ones wanted revenge.

“Oh dear,” said Luna in such a calm matter the statement seemed ridiculous. “I reckon someone should do something don’t you think?” Hermione silently agreed as she watched the young slytherin student get slammed against his table.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if the snake deserves it. His family probably had Voldemort over for dinner at some point,” Ginny uttered with an out of character undercurrent of darkness.

“Come on Gin, he’s just a kid. He’s not responsible for the war,” Hermione reminded her friend. She didn’t hear her reply though, because someone was getting up from the slytherin table to hopefully step in. Someone who Hermione couldn’t stop stealing glances at in the past few weeks.  
Draco Malfoy pushed the Gryffindor boy away from the other student with one hand, his grey eyes glinting dangerously in the weak morning light. “Yeah, yeah. Settle down kid. You want to be a hero, you should’ve been here last year,” he mocked in that bored yet arrogant voice he always managed.  
The younger boy stumbled back into his circle of friends, not so brave any longer. Despite his ex death eater status, no one gave Malfoy any trouble. Some students were still a little afraid of him and Hermione couldn’t blame them.  
It was well known at this point that Malfoy had defected in the final battle, choosing to fight on their side at the very end. If he hadn’t killed Nagini, Voldemort likely would have defeated them. Hermione and Harry both spoke in his defense at his trial even before his memories were presented to the court, proving that he became a death eater out of fear for his parents' lives.

This fact simply wasn’t enough to erase what he did. He made some awful choices that led to many lives lost and half the school was waiting for him to revert back to the dark side. It didn’t help that he was still an asshole.

By the time Blaise Zabini was there to drag the two slytherins back to their table, the whole thing was over and Draco was walking past their little trio on his way out of the great hall.  
Hermione avoided eye contact, unable to look at his face since his trial. Luna was back to picking at her breakfast pastry, but Ginny was still facing the aisle between the tables, ready to stare Malfoy down as he passed. Like her brother, she had definitely not forgiven him for his deeds. 

As Hermione turned back to her breakfast, she heard him sneer, “What are you looking at gingersnap?” He kept moving, his long legged stride carrying him out of the great hall. Blaise and Theodore Nott trailed after him.

Ginny made a noise close to a growl and whirled around face Hermione. But the thing about Ginny was that she didn’t dwell on things that made her angry or upset. She was already brushing past the insult. Malfoy's presence was a much bigger deal to Hermione. There was too much left unsaid, too many things about him that she couldn't look at too closely or it might upend all the normalcy she fought for over the last couple of weeks. 

“Are you going to the Hogwarts restoration meeting, Hermione?”

“Of course,” she answered, “I organized it. McGonagall is counting on me to oversee the whole thing. I have to be there tonight to assign rooms to students for repair, clean up, that sort of thing.” While the castle itself was structurally repaired, there were plenty of class rooms, dormitories, and even sections of the kitchen that appeared as though a bomb was set off inside them. Even with magic, restoring them to their original grandeur would take time and a skilled hand. A perfect distraction from her thoughts. 

“I know and I’m really sorry I can’t be a part of it. It’s just that I’m really busy with the team--”  
“No, it’s fine, Gin. Honestly. Being a quidditch captain is really important to you. I’m proud of you. It’s okay.” And it really was. Hermione was worried about the turnout for her little restoration project, but no matter how many people were willing to help, she would see Hogwarts fully repaired. Ginny smiled gratefully as she set down her fork.

“I’ll help with the restoration,” Luna assured her. “Abandoned rooms are excellent places to look for nargles.” 

Hermione giggled. “Thanks Luna.” There was a time when she saw the ravenclaw as silly and ditzy, but after all that had happened, Hermione could no longer deny the girl’s wisdom. 

The girls stood and left the great hall, Neville running up to them with dirt stained hands to kiss Luna on the cheek. “Professor Sprout has you missing breakfast, I see,” Ginny teased. Her friends’ chatter faded out as Hermione was drawn back into her head. 

She thought it would be hard to see the castle again after witnessing one of the darkest days in wizarding history right here, but it wasn’t. Hogwarts still felt like home. The battle was simply woven into her tapestry of memories that took place at the school. She wished it felt different. She wished she had flashbacks when she looked at the courtyard, wished her nightmares started the first night in her dorm. That would mean these symptoms were tied to a place and would stop bothering her when she left.

But the flashbacks, nightmares, feelings of panic and fear started long before she boarded the train. They weren’t going away. Hogwarts wasn’t different. She was different.


	2. Wizengamot Court Files I

**Wizengamot Court Files-June 6th-9th.1998-Case 3964-Draco Malfoy**

Court Scribe: C.P. shaldwell

Chief Warlock: Minister Shacklebolt

Court Legilimens: F.J. Herenvale

**Accused:** Draco Malfoy

**Charges:** Crimes against the Wizarding World, Murder, Conspiracy, Attempted Murder

The following record is a transcription of court proceedings for case 3964

**Day 1**

_ The accused, one Draco Malfoy, stands behind the bars of his cage in the center of the Wizengamot courtroom wearing Azkaban issue clothing. Thirty members of the Wizengamot, and two civilian witnesses are in attendance. The accused appears apathetic and stares blankly at the back wall of the courtroom.  _

Minister Shacklebolt: Mr. Malfoy, the charges brought against you are as follows...crimes against the Wizarding World, murder of fellow magic and non-magic folk, the attempted murder of Albus Dumbledore, and conspiracy to overthrow the Ministry of Magic in league with the nefarious plans of the deceased “lord” Voldemort. Do you understand the charges brought against you today?

_ The accused continues to look only at the back wall of the courtroom. _

Malfoy: Yes.

Minister Shacklebolt: And do you declare yourself of sound mind to recount your experiences...without the influence of any other party?

Malfoy: Yes.

Minister Shacklebolt: And do you permit Wizengamot Legilimens Herenvale to access your memories with the intent to verify your statements?

Malfoy: I do.

Minister Shacklebolt: Thank you Mr. Malfoy. We will now proceed with questioning in regards to your involvement with Voldemort and his regime

_ There is a pause as Minister Shacklebolt reorganizes the scrolls in front of him. The courtroom is silent. The accused continues to stare at the wall. _

Minister Shacklebolt: Your father, Lucius Malfoy, was deeply embedded in death eater circles. At what time did you take the dark mark?

Malfoy: Summer after my fifth year at Hogwarts school.

Minister Shacklebolt: Did you take the dark mark of your own free will?

Malfoy: Yes.

Minister Shacklebolt: For what reasons?

_ The accused shakes his head from side to side and continues to look at the wall.  _

Malfoy: I-I don’t understand what you’re asking. I became a death- I was a death eater. Are you seriously telling me my reasons might make a difference?

_ The accused’s voice rises in volume and takes on a tone of animosity. _

Minister Shacklebolt: Mr. Malfoy, your reasoning is precisely what we are trying to understand. This is a fair trial and your only opportunity to speak your piece. I suggest you do not squander it. I ask again. For what reason did you take the dark mark?

Malfoy: He wanted me to and---

Minister Shacklebolt: Who is “he”? 

Malfoy: The dark lord. He wanted me to. He said he had a special task for me. Something only I could do for him….he wanted me to...and I would have done anything he asked of me. The consequences of refusing were too great.

Minster Shacklebolt: Please elaborate on these consequences.

Malfoy: My parents....my father was in over his head. His and my mother’s lives were in the palm of the dark lord’s hand. Voldemort came to me and told me that if I didn’t prove my loyalty-

_ The accused exhales harshly and tilts his head to one side. There is a momentary pause. _

Malfoy: He would kill them. He would have that fucking snake swallow them whole. Just like everyone else who proved to be a disappointment.

_ The court murmurs. The accused's tone remains acrid. _

Minister Shacklebolt: Please use court appropriate language, Mr. Malfoy. Are you claiming that you took the dark mark to protect your parents from Voldemort’s direct threats?

Malfoy: Yes.

Minister Shacklebolt: You must understand that this claim will have to be verified by legilimens Herenvale.

Malfoy: Go ahead.

_ Legilimens Herenvale approaches the accused from their place at the minister’s side. The accused grips the chains hanging from his shackles. Their rattling is the only sound in the room. He drops his hands. Legilimens Herenvale halts in front of the accused and performs the incantation. After one minute and thirty five seconds, Legilimens Herenvale returns to his seat. _

Legilimens Herenvale: The accused speaks the truth.

_ The court erupts into whispers. The accused stares ahead. _

Minister Shacklebolt: Silence! That is enough. We will take a short recess.

_ The Wizengamot trial concludes for recess. _

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Snippets of Draco's trial will be interspersed throughout the story to help explain his thought process and the history between him and Hermione. I feel that Draco's motivations were left a bit vague so I've decided to play around with them a little. Thanks for reading!


	3. To be Haunted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? Another update this week? I was feeling motivated and finished another chapter so I decided why not post it early. Updates will slow down to every two weeks eventually. Also, this one has a lot of background info in it. We'll eventually get past that, but for right now its necessary. Bear with me. Thanks for reading!
> 
> CW: brief mentions of torture and implied prior sexual assault towards the end.

After a full morning of classes and a three hour shift in the hospital wing patching up Ravenclaws injured during quidditch tryouts, Hermione was exhausted. The amount of sleep she got each night definitely left something to be desired and all she really wanted was to go up to her dorm and lie down. She would have done just that if not for the Hogwarts restoration meeting being held in the great hall that very evening. Instead she sat down with Luna and Neville for the tail end of dinner in the great hall and stayed seated with them while most students filtered out back to their dorms or off to study and socialize before curfew. 

The first restoration meeting was to be held right there in the great hall and Hermione waited anxiously for her peers to show up. It was nearly 7:00 PM by the time a couple of older students took seats near the middle of the room, but they were quickly followed by more, until about fifteen teens in total were scattered across the great hall. Most of them were seventh and eighth year students, those who witnessed the war up close. 

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. Up until this point, she feared that no one would attend the meetings and she would be left to dictate to an empty room. That failure would be too much.

“It’s a good turnout don’t you think?” Luna said softly.

“As much as I could hope for,” Hermione agreed. Fifteen was good. She could assign pairs to seven different areas of the castle listed on the scroll the headmistress provided to her. She could take the last damaged area by herself and all would work out fine. 

Neville leaned in to speak from his place at Luna’s side. “There’s McGonagall. Is she going to speak?”

Sure enough, the headmistress stood off to the side at the front of the hall. “I don’t know. But I guess it’s time to start.”

“Go get ‘em Hermione,” Neville encouraged. 

Luna gave her a thumbs up as she stood, suddenly feeling the prickle of nerves at her skin. She never had much trouble speaking in front of people before, always first to raise her hand in class. But this felt different. Since the war, people were always looking at her. For strength, for war stories, for morale. She was the golden girl after all. She just wished she could stop feeling like all her shiny, gold gilt was about to flake off under their gaze, exposing the mess she felt inside.

Hermione wiped her suddenly slick hands on her skirt and approached the dias at the front of the room, nodding to the headmistress as she went. She looked out at the handful of students talking quietly amongst themselves and cleared her throat. 

“Good evening,” she started, but her voice came out as more of a squeek. Maybe dictating to an empty room would have been better. “Good evening,” she tried again. Better. The murmurs died down and the small crowd turned to face her. Luna and Neville were smiling. She focused on a point above their faces and started to speak.

“As I’m sure you’ve all taken note of by now, not all of Hogwarts has been repaired in full--”

Hermione was interrupted by the loud groan of the great hall doors swinging open to reveal none other than Malfoy. His platinum hair shone glossy in the light of the candelabras. He was free of his robes, his uniform perfectly tailored to his lean frame. Hermione took a look at his eyes by accident. They seemed to rove over her, scrutinizing, even with the distance between them. 

_ I’m sorry _

His face remained mostly bored, but at least he had the decency to look slightly discomfited when every head in the room turned to look in his direction. He ran his tongue over his teeth and gently closed the door behind him, moving to sit at the closest table. The great hall was silent as he walked, the only sound the hollow taps of his shoes on the stone.

Hermione was shocked he was even there and judging by the expressions on her peers’ faces, so was everyone else. If she had to make a list of what she thought Malfoy might do after dinner, volunteer castle repair wouldn’t make it into the top one hundred spots.

She shook off the surprise and refocused on her speech, explaining that the students would have until the spring to complete restorations on their area of the castle. Restoration was to be done outside of class time, but it was otherwise up to them to decide on a work schedule. Their progress would be observed on a monthly basis by Hermione herself. 

“So now I’m going to have everyone stand and I’ll pair you off for room assignments based on magical skill level. Yes…,” she pointed to one side of the room. “Seventh and eighth years here please.” She continued splitting the students into age groups when she felt the headmistress approach her from behind. 

“Miss Granger, you’re doing an excellent job,” she assured. Her face was familiar if not a little more lined since Hermione last saw her. War had aged all of them. “I imagine you’re surprised to see Mr. Malfoy in attendance tonight.”

“I-well, yes. It did catch me off guard. Forgive me if this seems bitter, but I didn’t think he would care about restoring the castle.” 

“Yes, well I wouldn’t normally divulge this information to a student but as head girl, you should know that the ministry has made participating in the restoration effort part of his probation.” 

Hermione wasn’t surprised. Returning to Hogwarts had also been a part of his probation. She had been there, the morning his fate was decided by the Wizengamot. She had begrudgingly released a silent breath of relief as it was declared he would not be spending the rest of his life in Azkaban.

“Okay, that makes sense. Is he allowed to use magic for the restoration?” Another part of his probation was only being allowed to use magic during lessons.

“I’m afraid not. He will need to be paired with someone highly skilled. I was hoping it would be you. He has a tendency to intimidate most students. I thought as head girl, you would be most suited to keeping him in line.”

All Hermione’s plans for spending each night working in solitude turned to ash in front of her. How was she supposed to tell McGonagall that she didn’t want to have to keep anyone in line. That she didn’t want to have to talk to him or be near him. It wasn’t like she didn’t already have enough on her shoulders.

“Oh, um..,” she faltered. “Yeah, that’ll be fine.” She quickly schooled her expression back into one of cheerful determination and bobbed her head in what she hoped was a convincing nod. 

“Excellent. Thank you Miss Granger. Please continue.” With a wave of her hand and a swish of her skirts, the headmistress was backing away and Hermione was left gazing over five different groups of students. A single second year, four seventh years, two fifth years, a sixth year and seven eighth years, including Malfoy. She was shocked he followed her directions.

“Okay, how about Neville and Luna take the east conservatory.” They smiled and glanced at each other quickly. It was the least she could do, pairing the couple together. At least one group would be happy with their partner.

She finished matching students, making sure to put the younger students with an older peer to balance out the groups in regards to ability, and assigned different rooms for each. Finally, only the Western end of the great library was left on the restoration scroll and only Malfoy was left without a partner. The entire time she called names, his eyebrows raised farther in surprise. When he realized they were the only two left, Hermione was sure they would pop right off his face. 

She approached him slowly, taking her time rolling the scroll back up and tying it closed with its ribbon. He crossed his arms and smirked. His mouth opened to say something, most likely something rude, and Hermione was quick to cut him off.

“McGonagall wanted you with me Malfoy. We’ll work on the library together.” She couldn’t keep the acid out of her voice. 

He scoffed in reply, his steel grey eyes glowing with amusement. “And I bet you just love that don’t you Granger?” His arms were crossed over his chest, his head tilted down to look at her. She had always hated the way he towered over her. It made her feel small, like a mouse in front of a cobra. 

“Hardly,” she snapped. “I know all about how helping with my project is a part of your get out of jail free card so spare me the remarks and just show up on time.” She swiped a curl out of her face in frustration. “We’ll meet every night after dinner, got it?”

“Every night?!” He whined. “You do realize I have quidditch practice and advanced potions. I don’t--”

“Every night Malfoy,” she growled. “This is going to take twice as long for us considering the library sustained the most intricate damage and I’m going to basically have to do it all by myself since you can’t use magic.”

“Fine, you little swot.” He stretched his arms behind his head and Hermione tried in vain not to notice the way his shirt tightened with the movement. “I suppose you want to start straight away too.”

“Of course!” she huffed. “Listen Malfoy, you may not give a fuck about this school or anyone in it but this is important to me. I came up with this restoration plan and if it’s not finished within my time frame it’ll be all my fault. So do me a favor, and just show up when I ask you to. Can you do that?” Rant over with, she clutched the hem of her skirt with her hands, an old habit, and stared him down. Well, stared up at him really.

He nodded in what was probably as close to concession as he ever got. “Sure, Granger. Can’t wait.” She chose to ignore the sarcasm in his voice and count this as a win. 

“I- okay, good,” she nodded and looked to find Luna and Neville. They hovered nearby, looking slightly worried.

“Good,” she repeated. “ Meet me there tomorrow.” Her parting statement was tossed over her shoulder as she moved to rejoin her friends. She didn’t notice him watch her go.

*****************************************************

With her restoration plans in place, head girl rounds and classes finished for the day, Hermione finally trudged back up to her room, bidding goodnight to some of her favorite portraits as she went. 

The head student dorms had been separated after too many instances of fraternization and eventual fall out between the head boys and girls. This meant that Hermione had a bedroom and bathing suite all to herself in one of the many castle towers. She liked having her own space. It was nice to enjoy a bit of privacy considering she spent the last year sharing a tent with two boys and then a few months at the burrow, where privacy was a completely foreign concept. In her own room, she didn’t have to worry about casting silencing spells before she went to sleep out of fear of waking her dorm mates with her nightmares.

She entered her room and promptly locked and warded the door behind her, some habits just ingrained in her too deeply to quit. Her room was decorated Gryffindor red and gold but had a few more personal touches, like her own desk and bookshelves, and a big basket of fluffy cushions for Crookshanks, who currently curled up on her duvet. She stroked the cat absentmindedly as her gaze settled on Ron’s letter atop her desk. 

She sighed. She cared so much for Ron. She really did. In the last two years she had only the briefest of moments, between trying to survive and win a war, to imagine what a relationship with Ron might be like. But what she imagined was wonderful. In her imagination, Ron was suddenly thoughtful of her feelings, patient and understanding. Oh yes, he would understand what she was trying to say even when she couldn’t quite find the words to say it. Hermione would no longer have to give and give and give. Because Ron would finally be ready to start giving back.

But after the final battle, after Fred was laid to rest and they decided to make a go of it, it soon became clear that Hermione’s imagination was inaccurate. It was funny, really. How she was so afraid of disappointing everyone that now she felt guilty for being the one who was disappointed.

She grabbed the letter off her desk and tore it open, sitting on the bed to read Ron’s familiar, messy scrawl.

_ Hermione, _

_ I hope everything is well at Hogwarts. I would ask how classes are going, but knowing you, they’re going brilliantly. I heard that ferret, Malfoy, is back. Just trying to avoid prison time, he is. He better not be giving you any trouble. Gin said she made quidditch captain. Harry wouldn’t bloody shut up about it.  _

_ Things are alright here. Mum is sad most days. George is even worse. But I’ve been staying busy with the internship and all. Auror training is a lot more work than I thought, Mione. I’m starting to think this is maybe a mistake. It’s not like it was in Hogwarts when I could always manage to convince you to do my assignments for me. Anyway, I hope to see you soon.  _

_ Mum’s birthday is next month and Ginny got special permission to come visit for the weekend. I was hoping that you could maybe get permission to come too. It would be good to see you Mione. I miss you. _

_ Yours,  _

_ Ron _

Hermione quickly penned a response that yes, she would try to get permission to visit and sealed the parchment. She would swing by the owlery some time tomorrow. Right now, she felt like she needed a long bath to try to ease her mind before even attempting sleep. 

There was a huge sunken tub in her head girl bathroom, much like the one in the second floor prefects’ bathroom, situated before arched windows overlooking the lake. She filled it with hot water and a bath milk and climbed in. The soothing water caressed her achy muscles and drew something of a whimper from her lips. Head tipped back against the stone ledge, she let her mind wander and it brought her to the place she always tried to avoid, the memories she wished she could just pluck out of her head for good.

Her blood on the floor of the drawing room. Her arm was on fire, but the pain of each  _ Crucio  _ was even more exquisite. Over and over, the curse was screamed, accompanied by the maniacal laughter bouncing off the walls. But what happened when Bellatrix finally left her alone was even worse.

_ I’m finished with her for now. Greyback, do what you wish, but leave her alive. Maybe you can soften her up.  _

In the present, Hermione’s heart started pounding, just as it did when she heard those words spoken. They had crashed around her head as all other noises went muffled by the ringing in her ears. Everyone knew what Greyback did to women. It was whispered at order meetings. Alluded to whenever his name came up. She sat up out of the water, trying to get a grip on her breathing. One breath in, one breath out, she attempted to squash her rising panic with the sheer force of her will.

_ I’m the golden girl. I’m the brightest witch of my age. Everyone is counting on me to be strong. I will not break now. I will not break now. _

She repeated the mantra in her head, but what really yanked her out of her thoughts was Crookshanks.

From beyond the door leading between her bedroom and bathroom, she heard her cat hiss violently. Hermione pulled herself out of the bath right as a heavy thud resonated against the wall in the other room. 

Terrified that Crookshanks may be in danger, she quickly wrapped herself in a towel and grabbed her wand. Water dripped from her hair and the tiles were slick as she skidded across the bathroom. She flung open the heavy oak door, wand pointed outward, and scanned the room for threats.

There was no one there. She tried to calm her racing heat as she looked over the room again, slower this time. Nothing, not even her cat.

“Crookshanks?” she cooed. “Where are you sweet boy?”

She sank to her knees to peer under the bed. Sure enough, the cat was hiding underneath the bed, his furry body rigid with tension. Slowly, she was able to coax him out of his hiding spot, but he remained agitated. 

She had no idea what might have frightened him. He wasn’t a skittish cat, but his hackles had been raised in what was obviously fear. Maybe a large bird or wayward owl had knocked into the window. She dressed in a nightshirt and underwear and lifted him onto the bed with her.

She stroked his fur absently and tried to turn her brain off. Dozens of thoughts flashed through her mind like a television flipping channels. Eventually, the television halted on Malfoy. She would be expected to work with him now. Her enemy. How had this even happened? She just wanted to forget about Malfoy, had planned on doing exactly that the moment she left the ministry on the last day of his trial. It was just too confusing. 

He had always been a mean, cold, and vicious boy who went on to be a mean, cold, vicious man. But she had never thought he would harm anyone, not really. There had even been moments, towards the start of everything going wrong, where it seemed as if his cruel treatment of her was evolving. Becoming different from the way he treated Harry and Ron. It was more teasing, like the hatred between them was a sort of fucked up inside joke they shared. 

His eyes would linger on her sometimes. He would catch her looking at him and smirk before he said something nasty. But then she found out he was a death eater. She found out he had let the enemy into her school, her safe place, and her headmaster was killed because of it. 

Behind every predatory smirk he ever gave her was a web of lies. She didn’t want to hear his reasons, didn’t want to hear how he hid their identities at the manor, didn’t want to hear how he had defected when he found out Hogwarts was to be attacked. She didn’t want to forgive him because it would be like turning her back on her twelve year old self. The one who cried herself to sleep when she realized that a big part of the community that she was supposed to finally fit in to didn’t want her because she was muggle born. 

Her whole life, she had to work twice as hard as everyone else to prove she deserved a chance. She gobbled up praise from teachers because it validated her. She made herself the best at everything so no pureblood like Malfoy could tell her she was a waste of magic. He didn’t deserve her forgiveness for doing the bare minimum at the very end. Even if the memory of his sharp grey eyes boring into hers from across a courtroom haunted her. 


End file.
